I don't remember buying three fourths of the stuff I own. Like the two small binoculars sitting behind my big TV, that I rarely use.

I have a friend that likes to grab one as he walks through my door and then sits in the other big chair checking out Veterans Park from the open door. I gave him the smaller Bushnell's the other day.

I've decided to have a yard sale this Summer. Take all of the shit in this house that I never use, and lay it out on the grass. Why keep anything that you're never going to use again?

I need to get my life down to a lean and mean state. It's my responsibility to dwindling family on both sides of the country, to make my transition to the other side as painless as possible.

I'd actually prefer it if neither my son Riley or grand-daughter Shelby came here. They're both insanely busy, and the thought of disrupting their lives to wade through my stuff, while getting me converted to ashes, doesn't make sense.

I'll check out if their is an outfit that performs this service, empties the house out, and puts my ashes into a couple of containers. Now if I can pull that off, a Riley/Shelby quick visit to town would be OK.

If anyone did show up, Daniel could hold a little gathering next door, where the few people left in my life can talk about what a wonderful successful guy I used to be, and how I died a worthless old fool here in the South.

Riley and Shelby can put my ashes in opposite oceans, and this chapter is closed.